


Bad Behaviour

by Sziondaisy



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Misuse of science equipment, Sticky, adult toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-07
Updated: 2015-10-07
Packaged: 2018-04-25 06:40:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4950445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sziondaisy/pseuds/Sziondaisy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vos has just returned to the Autobots after leaving his position as Agent 113. He joins the Lost Light, but until he passes Rung's evaluation, can't become an active crew member again and rejoin Perceptor in the lab. </p><p>With nothing to do, Vos looks for more inventive ways to entertain himself and stave off the boredom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bad Behaviour

Boredom was one of the few things that Vos handled badly. 

Joining the Autobot crew on their quest had been welcomed - he was still an Autobot after all - but it came with conditions. Firstly, until he passed Rung’s evaluation, he wasn’t allowed on active duty, nor was he allowed to remain an active weapon. He could live without his ability to fire, it wasn’t the first time he’d been disarmed for the safety of the crew and he could understand the reasoning, no one wanted to deal with the possibility of a loaded weapon having a mental break. 

They’d learnt that lesson with Fortress Maximus. 

It was being denied the opportunity to work that he really despised, being forced to ‘relax’, ‘settle in’ and ‘heal without pressure’. None of those things helped, he couldn’t even remember a time when he’d willingly relaxed and taken a lazy day. He craved the satisfaction of experimenting and problem solving, losing himself for hours in his experiments. He needed stimulation, either physical or mental, he always had. His processor stagnated when faced with nothingness. 

It was a vicious circle. The more unfulfilled he felt, the more aggressive he acted towards those trying to ‘help’ him. Vos knew what he needed and was sick of being told what he needed was wrong. He could understand that Rung and the command mechs were wary of letting him throw himself back into work where he could push all his feelings into a locked box and never talk of them. He knew that wasn’t healthy and that his superiors wanted to know he wasn’t an inside threat. That didn’t mean he had to like what they were doing or how they were doing it. 

It was worse in the mornings, when Perceptor tried to untangle himself from Vos’ long limbs and get out of the room without waking him. Vos never slept through it, Perceptor wasn’t the smallest of mechs and he was a light sleeper. He still pretended to be in recharge, it was easier than seeing Perceptor look at him with pity and then sneak out of the room. 

Then Vos was alone in the silent room, left with intrusive thoughts of his past as he relived every murder in excruciating detail. He could name them all, every victim in the order they’d died, and recite their last words word for word. Every mech had begged for death eventually. 

It all came down to one question; had it all been worth it?

The answer was yes, of course it had, his intel had saved lives. More importantly it had saved the Wrecker’s and thus saved Perceptor. Without a second thought he would do it all over again if it meant Perceptor would survive. 

Even when he knew it made Perceptor lay awake at night, imagining what his life as Agent 113 had really been like. When the arms around his frame tightened, pulling him closer as the older scientist felt the sting of guilt, knowing he’d been used as the pawn that pushed Scope to become a monster. 

If Perceptor had known what was being asked of Scope, he would have found a way to step in and stop it. He would have told Scope that everything he’d been told by command was a lie, he wasn’t in danger, he hadn’t been taken prisoner and he wasn’t about to be executed, and most importantly, no, joining the DJD was not the only way to protect what he loved. He would have taken away Scope’s fear of losing him with gentle touches and firm reassurance. But he hadn’t known and he’d been too far away to help.

There were some mechs in command that didn’t deserve forgiveness. 

Perceptor couldn’t claim to know what it was like to be considered disposable, especially not so by Command. Unlike Scope, he’d never been a slave bound to an owner, his intelligence had always put him in the highest rungs of society, offering him every opportunity to better himself. His life had been easy compared to Scope’s, who had started at the bottom and clawed his way to the top, snatching every chance to better himself and make a better life. Some called it fate that Scope met the right mechs at the right time, Perceptor hated that, it made a mockery of the hard work Scope had done for himself. He’d been there at the start, he’d seen Scope pour himself into work too difficult for him to understand, seen the smaller mech forgo recharge for days at a time, just to squeeze in those few extra precious minutes of study. He’d seen the hard work pay off when Scope was reclassed as a scientist and seen the joy as Scope clutched the letter to his chest like it was the most important thing in the world. He’d watched with pride as Scope stood in front of an auditorium full of scientists and spoke of his research for the first time, fearless as he faced the mechs who told him a disposable would never make a scientist. 

For Command to take all those accomplishments and ignore them was a disgrace. To play on a rifle’s inbuilt fear of letting their handler die was worse. It was the ultimate shame for a rifle and a million years of Perceptor telling Scope they were equal wouldn’t stop him holding Perceptor’s life above his own.

No, Perceptor wouldn’t forgive that and Vos knew it, because he couldn’t forgive it either.

Vos rolled over on the berth with a groan and nested himself in the covers, pulling them tight around his frame in an effort to mimic the warm embrace of his mate that chased his nightmares away. 

It wasn’t the same, no amount of wiggling and pulling could make up for the solid warmth of Perceptor pressed up against his back. 

Angry, he ripped them off his body, hissing in annoyance as they tangled around his frame and caught on the sharp edges of his armour. The more he twisted, the tighter the fabric became, until - wrapped too tight to balance himself - he slipped off the edge of the berth and fell to the floor with a loud thud. Infuriated and angry at the blanket for daring to entrap him, he kicked and clawed until he was free, then kicked the blanket against the wall to teach it a lesson. 

He stood rigid, fists at his sides, venting loudly as his frame cooled from the outburst. Somewhere in the back of his mind he was reminded of Rung’s advice to try and seek another option before turning to violence. A sharp bark of laughter broke the silence, he used to be a pacifist and now he was beating up blankets. How far had he really sunk?

For a few minutes he stood and debated his choices to fill the time. There was Swerve’s, but highgrade probably wasn’t the best option when he was feeling so pent up, he didn’t trust himself not to fight the first mech who accused him of betraying the Autobots by joining a cult that killed them. It was amazing to him how many mechs - despite being told countless times that Vos could in fact understand them - still spoke behind his back, spreading their cruel words and lies. 

The shooting range was an option but it was also a complete waste of time, shooting paint guns at targets was nowhere near the same as shooting them himself. Which left his mandatory sessions with Rung and the diary he was supposed to fill out when he was angry. Vos treated that like a joke - probably one of the many reasons that Rung wouldn’t declare him safe for work - and had a crew manifest to give to Rung at their next meeting. Getting a rise out of Rung was his goal, shattering the mech’s calm attitude was the only hope of enjoyment he had from attending the sessions. 

Which left Perceptor as the one viable option….in an area of the ship Vos wasn’t allowed to be. Magnus wouldn’t begrudge him taking Perceptor some lunch though, would he? 

Ten minutes later and Vos was standing at Swerve’s bar pretending he didn’t see Ravage sitting a few stools away. It was too early for the bar to be busy and Swerve had been taking inventory while he could. He’d been surprised to see Vos walk in, but credits were credits no matter who had them. 

“Here you go,” Swerve smiled nervously, sliding two sealed containers of energon across the bar to Vos and taking the offered credit card as payment, “no hard feelings, right? I mean I don’t blame you or anything, just doing your job weren’t you?” It wasn’t like Vos had tried to kill him or anything... 

Vos cocked his head, unsure what the minibot was talking about. Having most of the ship unable to speak his language made communication difficult, so Vos let his actions speak for him. Swerve cottoned on quick enough and reached up to jab a stubby thumb at the shoulder where his Autobot mark had been and where he’d been shot after seeing the DJD. 

“You shot me, right through the Autobot eye,” Swerve clarified, “then left me for dead. One of your magic bullets, glad I could help at least.” 

Vos scoffed, /Count yourself lucky, you could have been left actually dead./

“...what?” Swerve asked, “ sorry. I probably shouldn’t try and have a conversation with you without Perceptor around to translate. I’m just going to take a stab at translating and-” 

“He said you’re lucky you aren’t dead,” Ravage interrupted, paying little attention to the two mechs, “I agree with him, the Decepticon Justice Division don’t leave survivors.” 

Which wasn’t entirely true, Vos wanted to clarify, the DJD never left traitors alive that much was true enough, but they often left Autobots alive to spread the word of how terrifying they were. Monsters couldn’t be monsters if no one knew who they were. Swerve wasn’t supposed to be one of those mechs, he was supposed to be dead. Kaon had taken the shot, Vos had simply changed the trajectory enough that the bullet went where he wanted it to.

“Oh...well thanks then, Scope right?” 

Vos growled and shook his head. “Vosssss,” he hissed out in a staticky mimic of Neocybex. 

“Oh...you’re sticking with that name?” Swerve looked uncomfortable, “I mean, well if it helps you settle in? I think a lot of mechs won’t want to call you that, they’ll think you’re still bad. Lots of mechs already think that. Not me of course, I think you’re fine. Can’t see all that violence without being a bit messed up, right? I was traumatised after seeing you work and I only saw it once. You must have seen it hundreds of times and-”

/Give me my credit card back so I can go,/ Vos interrupted. 

“Wha..what?” 

Ravage’s mouth quirked into the briefest of smiles, “He wants his card back so he can go.”

“Oh, oh right, here,” he handed the card back and stepped away from the bar, unconsciously closer to Ravage. 

Vos took the card and collected the cubes, balancing them against his chest. “Thanksss.”

“So you speak Primal,” Vos heard Swerve ask Ravage.

“I’m a spy, I speak a lot of things,” the cat replied. 

“Well how would you feel about being a bar guard?” 

Ravage scoffed.

\------

Vos’ trek through the ship was uneventful once he started ignoring everyone who looked his way. He still had trouble navigating the new surroundings and took more than one wrong turn before he finally ended up where he wanted to be. 

Perceptor’s lab was a long walk from the more inhabited areas, offering a quiet place to work with no distractions from passing mechs. Vos wasn’t surprised to see the lab door wide open, offering a view of Perceptor in his alt mode, switching between slides of what looked like energon. 

/Hey,/ Vos said quietly, knocking softly on the door frame so not to startle Perceptor. He raised the two cubes balanced in his right hand to show his intention, /I brought you lunch, I assumed you’d forget to fuel as usual./ 

Perceptor didn’t respond immediately, he finished the slide he was working on and wrote down his findings. Once he was in a place he could easily restart his work from, he transformed and stretched, “Not that it isn’t a pleasant surprise to see you down here, but Magnus is going to write you up again if he catches you breaking more of his rules.”

Vos shrugged, /I’m just bringing you some energon. I can leave if you’re too busy to take a break./

“That isn’t necessary, just close the door behind you so you aren’t caught being in here.” 

A tap of the door control and the heavy, shielded door closed, locking into place with a clunk. 

/What are you working on?/ Vos asked as he crossed the room to join Perceptor at his desk, taking a quick inventory of the equipment and samples, /energon samples and poisons?/

“I can’t tell you, you know that. Once you get signed back into duty, I’ll tell you everything you want to know. It will be nice to work with you again.” Perceptor smiled softly and reached out to poke Vos in the chest, “so stop trying to wind Rung up when you could be using his sessions as a chance to get back into work. Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing.”

Vos tutted and stepped away, looking for a stool to sit on, finding none, he settled on the empty desk and hopped up onto the cold surface to cross his legs. /I’ve given him everything he wants, I’ve talked about the DJD, I’ve told him about the killings, I’ve answered his questions about why I did it and why I thought it was important, I’ve even answered his questions about you. He’s the one claiming I have ‘scars’ and I’m ‘wounded’, that I have ‘violent outbursts due to desensitisation caused by the DJD’. He thinks talking is going to make it all better, but that’s stupid, how is talking about it going to change anything?/

“You’re fighting him, Scope. I know you and I highly doubt you go in there and answer his questions without fighting him every step of the way.”

/I don’t know him and I don’t want to talk to him. There’s no point, the damage is done. To be honest I find it insulting that Megatron is seen as fit to be captain and Whirl...well the less said about him the better. I did my job, there’s no more to it than that. Everyone else is making a big deal about nothing./

Perceptor took a drink of the energon and leaned back on the desk, “I know it’s hard and you don’t trust anyone, but Rung’s not going to sign you off until he’s sure you’re not a threat to yourself or anyone else on this ship. Just think about it, ok? One rip or the repair plating and it’s all over and you’re free to live your life again.”

Vos huffed loudly, /I’ll think about it, but no promises./ 

“The sooner you stop playing games with him and trying to horrify him with gruesome stories of the DJD, the sooner you can come and work with me and the sooner I get to tell you all about our time travelling adventures.”

That caught Vos’ attention, /time travelling?/

Perceptor nodded, hiding his smile, after four and a half millions years with Scope, he knew how to win an argument, the temptation just had to be the right kind and Vos had to think he’d won. “Yes, and I can’t tell you about it until you have clearance.” 

Vos shifted and tutted, turning his attention away from Perceptor to look as disinterested as possible, /I’ll think about it./

The simple chatter over lunch helped ease the tension Vos had felt earlier and he soon settled into comfortable companionship. Rung and command were forgotten as Perceptor listened to Vos talk about the work he’d managed to do on the Peaceful Tyranny. 

/Do you think we could go shooting hater?/

Perceptor watched Vos over the rim of him cube, “you’ve been disarmed.”

A small problem. /I have, but you could go to Rodimus and tell him that you don’t want to get rusty as a sniper and ask if I can be put into commission just for a few hours./

Perceptor was quiet, he could feel the hope radiating from the rifle in heavy waves. “Scope,” he said softly, choosing his words carefully, “the fact you want me to ask Rodimus and not Ultra Magnus or Megatron means you know the answer is going to be a no.” 

Vos’ shoulders dropped at the truth of it, /he might say yes though. Mechs get away with so much on this ship./ And in truth, he was feeling singled out, there were bigger threats on board than him, Megatron being the number one.

“I’ll talk to him,” Perceptor said, “but don’t get your hopes up. Although it would be nice to get reaquainted.” 

Vos revved his engine, /we can get reaquainted in another way too./ 

“That’s...inappropriate while we’re at work..”

/We aren’t at work, you are./

“Don’t pick holes, you know exactly what I mean.” 

Vos huffed and leaned back on his hands, /fine, but I get to play later then./

The older scientist gave a brief nod, “if you can manage to behave yourself while you’re here.” 

/Of course,/ Vos replied, feigning innocence. 

A clang echoed in the room as Perceptor dropped his empty cube into the empty trash can and fixed Vos with a ‘I know you too well to fool for that old trick’ look. 

/Don’t look at me like that, I mean it./

“Don’t make me kick you out, I don’t mind you keeping me company but I have work to do and I don’t need a distraction if you want me to finish at a reasonable time. You aren’t allowed to be the distraction, then whine all night because I can’t finish until late.”

/It’s nice to see you haven’t changed while I was away, you’re still the same ‘all work and no play’ mech that you always were./

Perceptor nodded and turned back to his desk, “If I remember correctly, that’s exactly why you fell in love with me.” 

Vos scoffed loudly at the declaration, in all their time together he had never admitted to feelings of love. It wasn’t something they did, they showed each other in actions, not words. Neither was the overly romantic kind, although Vos once brought Perceptor a new set of micro tools on Spark Day, just to wind his lover up. /Actually it’s your scope, it’s bigger than mine and I keep you close so I feel less inadequate./

“Perhaps that’s something you should talk to Rung about,” Perceptor said flatly, but Vos didn’t miss the undercurrent of amusement.

/You want me to talk spike size with a stranger?...I mean, I suppose I could, but I don’t want to make him jealous./

“Scope size,” Perceptor corrected, “leave my spike out of it.”

/I’m a rifle, our scopes are basically spike measuring tools. The bigger the scope, the better you are. Yours is big so I snatched you up./

“Ah,” Perceptor hummed, looking over his shoulder to look at his mate with narrowed optics, “that explains why Tripwire named you Scope then, you are indeed a giant spike. The biggest Scope of all.” 

Vos looked at the other mech with a blank expression as that sank in, then erupted into laughter, /was that a joke? You. YOU, made a spike joke. I don’t think that’s ever happened before. Maybe you have changed afterall./

Perceptor couldn’t answer that without lying. The truth was that he had changed, they both had and maybe not for the better. Before the DJD, when Vos had been Scope, he’d been a quiet mech, fairly shy and always looking to his mate for confirmation. A strict pacifist fighting against the assumptions mechs made about his frame. Perceptor couldn’t imagine what Vos had gone through as part of the DJD, he’d imagined the worst, but suspected that wasn’t close to the truth. The mech who’d come back was confident, determined and itching to pick fights with the boundaries he he was forced to adhere to. Vos had always liked games, although the games he played as Scope had never been at the expense of another mech or himself, but now, Vos itched for reactions, good or bad and his games were twisted and dark. 

It was Rung who took the brunt of Vos’ games, the mandatory sessions were always met with fierce resistance. For the first few sessions, Vos had sat cross legged on the couch and said nothing, Rung was gentle with his questioning, never putting words in his patient’s mouth. It was the soft approach that made Scope stick his heels in and switch to confrontational stubbornness. The fourth session brought the reaction Rung had been expecting, Vos had sat down and answered none of the questions put to him, instead, he chose to tell the most violent stories he had, detailing the horrors he’d participated in and seen. Rung took it calmly, not rising to the bait so violently laid before him. The calmer Rung took it, the more Vos stepped up his game. 

The suggestion that Vos drop the code name and take up his old name was met with adamant refusal. The truth was that he’d been thinking about it himself, but as soon as the idea was suggested by someone else, Vos held his name closer, going so far as to ignore anyone who called him Scope. Except for Perceptor, who knew the games too well to fall into the trap. When Vos had refused to answer to Scope, Perceptor simply ignored him after he’d said, ‘you are not Vos to me, you are Scope and if you insist on being Vos then we have nothing to talk about. I am not interested in being a part of this game of yours.’ 

Vos had sulked and caused a fuss about it, arguing with the silent Perceptor. Two days of ignoring each other later and Vos was starting to falter. He’d done everything he could for Perceptor and desperately wanted to be acknowledged and held by him, instead he was lucky if he saw any glimpse of his mate. As much as he hated to surrender, he had admitted his defeat and accepted being called Scope. The reward of his mate’s arms around him all night was worth the price. 

Rung had warned Perceptor with the original confirmation of Vos’ return to the ship that the mech who came back would likely not be the same mech who left. Perceptor had known that already, just how damaged he was was yet to be seen. 

Both Rung and Perceptor had realised quickly that Vos was hurting, hiding the pain away behind a mask of confidence, stubbornness and high pride. His refusal to seek help was a text book case of denial.

It was a mask Vos had worn for so long he wasn’t sure how to remove it. Wasn’t sure how to live without it.

/You’ve been working that same slide for twenty minutes,/ Vos said, snapping Perceptor from his thoughts, /it must be an interesting one. Your average time for the others has been two minutes and thirty eight seconds./

“It’s…” Perceptor shook his head to shake the thoughts away, “nevermind.” For a brief moment he considered asking Vos if everything was a game to him and using the opportunity to try and get some of the answers Rung couldn’t. He didn’t, it would only end with Vos storming out and he knew it was best to stay Vos’ safe place, healing with familiarity and companionship. 

/I could help./

“No. It’s fine, thank you.” 

/Am I distracting you? I want to stay but I could go? I just thought it would be nice to go for a drink or something when you finish./

“You can stay, but I’m not sure about Swerve’s. It’s always very busy at the end of the work week.”

/What about a taking a drink from Swerve’s and going back to your room to watch one of those documentaries you have?/ 

Perceptor held back a sigh, “Scope, do you think we can we think about this after I’ve finished? I really do need to work. Ultra Magnus needs this report and I’ve a deadline to adhere to.” 

/Ok, you work and I’ll think of something nice for us to do./

With a thankful nod, Perceptor turned back to focus on his work. 

Vos remained where he was, cross-legged on the spare desk, happy to quietly watch Perceptor at work. It was calming to see something normal, even though he itched to join in the research, whatever it was. Perceptor was absorbed in it, using a pipette to carefully measure out energon from test tubes and drip it onto slides for easy analysis. He soon forgot Vos was even in the room with him. 

As he’d promised, Vos didn’t make a sound.

At least until the boredom set in. 

Around him were stacks of supplies, science equipment that Perceptor had boxed up to free up the desk, readying the room for when Vos could return to duty. They weren’t all completely packed, some boxes were sealed, but others were open, half full and full of miscellaneous items that had no right being stored together. Vos quietly organised them, slipping into the repetitive task with gusto. He had expected better packing from Perceptor, pipettes and beakers shared boxes with clamps and petri-dishes, fragile items that could break if one of the heavier metal clamps fell on them.

It was inside a box of test tubes that he found an unexpected prize and he pulled it out for a closer examination.

The test tube was heavy in his hand, far larger than the others in the box and made of thicker glass. Vos didn’t think it would shatter even if it was thrown at the wall, whatever it’s intended use was, it had needed to be unbreakable. The thick glass remained cold despite the heat radiating from his frame. Vos couldn’t place a use for it off the top of his head, he couldn’t think of anything that would need such a big, sturdy tube. There were dangerous chemicals that needed heavy duty containers, but the large test tube went beyond that. 

Never one to turn down an opportunity to play naughty, Vos hatched a plan. If Perceptor was going to be all work and no play, then Vos simply needed to be more tempting. How hard could it be? 

Wrapping his thumb and forefinger around the test tube, Vos tested the girth. It wasn’t much thinner than his own spike, although much longer, but compared to Perceptor, the test tube was hardly a challenge. 

Vos shivered at the thought of Perceptor turning around to catch him self servicing with the makeshift dildo. His hander wouldn’t be pleased, yet that only added to the excitement. 

Excitement that already made his frame warm in anticipation. 

His long, thin fingers scratched across his abdomen, plucking at the sensitive wires just under his surface armour, playing himself like an electric guitar. In no rush to reach overload - and interested to see just how long it would take Perceptor to notice the show going on behind him - Vos teased himself. 

The last time he’d interfaced in the lab, had been on an Autobot base, Outpost 17B if he remembered correctly. It wasn’t a common occurrence, despite what mechs liked to say about mates working together. Both Perceptor and Vos took their job as scientists seriously and had an unspoken agreement that their personal life didn’t enter the lab. That was a rule Vos was about to break and smash to pieces. 

They’d been sent out to help the base put a stop to a highly contagious rust that was killing the workers there. It had been a gruelling case with neither scientist leaving the lab for weeks once the samples started flooding in, recharge came in short bursts while the machines worked and refuelling was sporadic at best. Vos built up a painful charge. As a rifle he was designed to expend large amounts of energy on a regular basis, his frame converted energy into rounds to fire and the buildup if he went without firing for too long was painful. He hadn’t been to the shooting range in weeks and the resulting build up left him jittery and short tempered, snapping at both mechs and the machines. Perceptor had caught him laying into a lab tech for moving samples without permission and had dragged him kicking and screaming into the storage room. 

It wasn’t sexy or romantic. The room was too small for both of them and the shelving bit into their armour. Surrounded by supplies and the heavy smell of chemicals, Vos had had the best overload of his life. 

The memories never failed to warm Vos’ frame. Perceptor hadn’t spoken to him as he pinned him to the wall and manually opened his valve cover. Foreplay didn’t happen, Perceptor kicked Vos’ legs apart and reached down to finger his valve, quickly stretching him so the damage would be minimal. The interface had been hard and fast, exactly what Vos had needed in that moment and entirely unlike anything Perceptor had given him before or since. 

Vos hadn’t even minded when Perceptor pulled out and transfluid and lubricants gushed down his legs. Perceptor said nothing, just cleaned up and left. Job done.

Strangely, that was the part he found the sexiest. He’d been used and he was filthy. He should have been disgusted to be treated like a berth slave again, but he wasn’t, he had never wanted Perceptor more than in that moment. Not that he could ever admit it, not without Perceptor worrying about whether he’d slipped back into his old mindset.

Opening his interface panel, Vos reached down to thumb his outer node, rolling it between his fingers and biting back on a moan as pleasure warmed his sensor net. He imagined his thumb was Perceptor’s tongue as he rode the larger mech’s face, his claws becoming the teeth that always teased him with nips that were soothed away with kisses. 

Keeping his thumb on his sensor nub, he twisted his hand and slid two fingers inside his valve, wasting no time in scissoring them and searching for the sensor clusters embedded in the soft mesh walls. The sensation of his calipers squeezing his fingers was nice, but nothing compared to how they shifted and opened around Perceptor’s thick length. The burn of stretching around his lover, feeling his valve ripple and shift to the limits as inch by inch Perceptor filled him, there was no feeling as good as that. 

His frame burned, but Vos kept his fans silent, overriding the command code for them, unwilling to let Perceptor hear him and ruin things before they’d really begun. 

Pulling his fingers from his valve, Vos went back to teasing his nub, pinching it and twisting to where it almost hurt. Perceptor would never understand that the pain was part of the pleasure. The older mech was always so reserved and careful, knowing exactly when pleasure became pain and never crossing that line, not even when Vos begged for it. 

Vos grabbed the test tube and leaned back on his left arm, spreading his legs wide, showing off his exposed array in Perceptor’s direction in anticipation for the moment when Perceptor would finally notice and turn around. His spike ached in its housing, ignored as Vos pulled the test tube between his lubricant soaked valve lips, pressing the cold glass to his node and rocking against it. The cold was sharp against the heat of his frame and Vos shuddered in pleasure. Slowly, the makeshift dildo disappeared into his valve. Too small to feel great, but nice none the less. 

Not being designed as a dildo, the tube was difficult to grip once it was wet and more than once slipped from his fingers. The bevelled opening was just large enough for Vos’ sharp fingers to claw around, making it easier to pull out than to push in. It was an agonisingly slow process and Vos wanted it fast, the dildo hit the right places and brushed the right clusters, but it wasn’t enough. 

In a moment of irritation, Vos growled and shifted too fast, making a noise on the desk that startled Perceptor and the game was up. Perceptor sat up and turned to ask what was wrong, but the question died on his lips as he saw what was waiting for him. He had a good view of lubricant stained thighs and writhing rifle. His spike pressurised before he’d even processed what exactly was happening. 

Vos made deliberate eye contact and kept it as he pressed the dildo in fully and rolled his hips up to meet it, moaning sinfully as it pressed against his ceiling node. He did his best to put on a show, arching and moaning, twisting into uncomfortable but attractive poses that showed off his frame in the best way he knew how. 

Perceptor didn’t remember moving, but when he came back to his senses he was stood over Vos, watching as the dildo moved. “That’s unsanitary,” he managed to say.

Vos laughed through a moan, angling the dildo to press cruelly against his major sensors. /I’m laying here, all revved up and covered in lubricants and that’s all you’ve got to say to me? For shame, Percy./

That brought Perceptor back to his senses, “what are you doing?”

/Self servicing with I found a spike in your box,/ Vos replied, unapologetic as he continued fucking himself with it.

“It’s a test tube.”

Vos tutted, /technicalities, now stop talking and frag me./ 

Perceptor willed himself to step back, “this is my lab, Scope.”

Vos pulled himself up onto his knees, one hand between his legs to keep the test tube in place and the other reaching out to pull Perceptor close again. Pressing his faceplate to the red mech’s neck cables, Vos hummed, /We haven’t had a quick, hard one in vorns. I could take you right now, I’m already ready for you./ 

Perceptor pushed Vos back and the heat of the moment, pulled his legs out from until him, spilling him onto the table with a loud bang, “why do always want to get your own way?” 

Vos’ vents spluttered as the thud of landing so hard on his back ricocheted around his frame. shocked but eager to continue if that was the mood Perceptor was going to take it. /You love it,/ he purred, /now do it harder./ He’d been through worse with Tarn, regularly pinned to walls or whatever flat surface was available. Pain was something he’d come to understand intimately, but he’d never received it from Perceptor before and now he had, well he’d never been more turned on. /Do it again,/ he hissed, /I like it./ 

Perceptor pinned Vos down with a heavy hand to his chest. Vos wriggled and twisted as he clawed at the hand over his spark. 

“I’m not going to hurt you, Scope, I’m sorry I just did. If you want that then we’ll discuss it later when you aren’t so revved up. We’ll do it properly, find a safe word and look for safe ways to do it without First Aid getting repeated visits. Agreed?” 

How could he not agree to that when the very thought almost had him overloading? /Please. Yes, I want that a lot. Want you now though./ He tried his best to wrap his legs around Perceptor and pull him in, but Perceptor caught the long limbs with his free hand and pinned them down. 

“You come into my lab and self service behind me? I don’t think you deserve anything but sending out of my lab to sit on your charge until tonight when I finish.” 

/No. Please!/ Vos begged, /please. I can’t. I need you./

“Then maybe I should just step back and watch while you bring yourself off.” His spike ached for release and on that moment wanted nothing more than to bury himself in his mate and feel him. Reassure himself that Scope was real and solid, not a dream of something he wished for. Know that in that moment Scope was safe and that he could protect him from the horrors. 

/Please, Percy,/ Vos asked, whining loudly as the dildo tube slipped free and clattered to the floor only to be kicked a short distance away so it wouldn’t shatter under a foot.

“Don’t move,” Perceptor ordered. 

Vos obeyed instantly, his frame still, rigid with tension and charge. Even when Perceptor stepped forward again and a finger traced around his valve, slipping between the folds and pinching the largest external sensor, he was as still as a statue. 

When two thick fingers entered him, Vos bucked and moaned. Calipers tightened and flexed around the digits as Vos tried to press harder onto them. The hand on his chest became heavier, restricting his movement. 

/Don’t move,/ Perceptor repeated, switching to Primal for Vos’ benefit.

Vos whimpered, stilling his hips with a hiss.

/Good, now open your spike cover, but no touching./

Vos’ panel slid open and his neglected spike extended immediately. The rush of freedom brought his hips up into an involuntary buck. Perceptor ignored it as he ghosted his finger from tip to connector, sending his little lover into a needy spasm that made his spike jump. His own interface panel opened at the sight of the mech coming undone under his hand and he breathed a heavy sigh of relief.

Perceptor held his own spike firmly and stepped forward, close enough so he could stroke his tip between the folds of Vos’ valve, teasing but never penetrating. Vos gave up trying to control himself and writhed under him, begging babble falling from his vocaliser as he tried yet again to push back against Perceptor and impale himself to stop the teasing. The test tube had done a good job of stretching him, Perceptor could tell by the way the rifle’s valve clenched on air as he slid he spike over the opening. Lubricants dripped from Vos, pooling on the table, leaving his valve slick and ready for whatever came next.

/Please,/ Vos begged, /I can’t take it any more. Frag me before you kill me./

“Impatient,” Perceptor chastised, “don’t rush me.” 

Vos’ voice was mostly static, thick with lust as he choked on a needy sob, /please! I can’t. I need you, Percy. Please. Just this once and I won’t do it again./ An outright lie, he’d do it as many times as he could get it if it meant his mate would look at him with lust instead of pity and sadness.

Perceptor listened to the promise and gripped Vos’ hips tightly so he could dictate the pace. “I’ll hold you to that.”

/Hold me to your spike instead,/ Vos growled, /stop teasing and frag-/

Vos was interrupted when, without a warning, Perceptor pulled on his, yanking him down the table until his valve was just over the edge. In one long, fluid movement, Perceptor thrust into him, pressing forward until his hips met wet purple. Stretched almost to his limits, Vos screamed in pleasure and rolled his hips as much as he was able. His back arched off the table as Perceptor thrust in a second time, igniting sensors the dildo had been too small to activate.

Perceptor wasn’t as gentle as he could have been. His movements, although fast, were controlled enough not to cause damage. Vos was tight around him, squeezing his spike as he pulled back. Blissful heat that he’d missed more than he knew. He’d never been overly sexual, but with Vos, it was different, Vos wanted him, needed him, and that was sexy. 

Vos didn’t idly lay back and take it, he twisted and bucked, fighting for more. His hands clawed over Perceptor, eventually coming to rest on the glass of his chest where his sharp claws could cruelly bite into the sealant around the edges. 

The door was locked, but Perceptor still remembered to occasionally look up and check they were still alone. As long as it remained closed then no one would hear the moaning and begging and the little tryst would remain a secret. 

And Vos was loud, making sounds more fitting for a wild turbohound than the prideful scientist he was. He made enough noise for the both of them, eventually turning to needy begging as he found a way to brace himself on the table and slam his hips into Perceptor, forcing the spike into him harder than Perceptor would allow it himself. The loud moan and tight squeeze on his spike didn’t deter Perceptor from taking a tiny step back so it couldn’t happen again. It felt good, but visiting the medbay wouldn’t.

Vos growled and tried again, but Perceptor was just far enough away that he couldn’t get deep enough onto the spike to hit his ceiling node. /Pit spawn! Stop being nice and frag me! Break me! I’ll love every second of it./

Perceptor shook his head. Vos fought the decision and used the distraction to wrap his legs around Perceptor’s waist, locking his ankles together at the small of his back. Their interface panels pressed together tightly, Perceptor’s spike locked deep inside Vos where Vos wanted it to be. Instead of trying to ride his mate and risk giving the upper hand away by letting his prize slip free of his valve, Vos made grinding motions rolling his hips in wide circles to move the spike inside him without pulling back. Massaging every node brought Vos through one shaky, screaming overload. 

Perceptor took a sharp intake of air as Vos’ valve clamped painfully tight around his spike. He reached down under Vos’ arms, pulling the smaller mech into a sitting position. It he couldn’t win, then he’d play Vos’ game with his own rules, letting his mate think he’d won. 

Vos pressed his face to Perceptor’s chest so he could feel the warm pulse of his spark, twisting wildly under the protective layers of glass and metal. Nimble fingers reached up, one hand settling behind Perceptor’s neck, the other scratching down the red microscope barrel in a way that never failed to make Perceptor shiver.

Perceptor wrapped his arms around Vos, holding him close and stopping the grinding motion by thrusting shallowly. Vos cried out in pleasure, his outer sensor node now constantly stimulated by the friction of the new position. “Better?” Perceptor murmured into his audial. Vos could only nod, frame shaking as pleasure took away his ability to form words. 

The leisurely pace didn’t last long. Vos was hot in his arms, vents blasting the heat away from his frame and over Perceptor’s waist. The rifle scratched and clawed, tearing off fine lines of red paint that would need repainting before his next meeting with the ship’s command trio. 

Vos overloaded before Perceptor, crying out loudly as his his spike jerked on contact with his mate’s abdominal plating, coming streams of transfluid that splattered between them and smeared as they moved.. Shaking, over sensitive and tired, Vos didn’t fight being laid down again, his knees pushed to his chest as Perceptor picked up the pace of his thrusts and sought out his own release. 

He overloaded quietly, deep inside Vos, filling him with shot after shot of transfluid. Falling forward onto his hands, he vented deeply, collecting himself before his legs gave out. 

/That was really good,/ Vos murmured, /lets do that again./

Collecting himself quickly, the warm glow of overload still a pleasant buzz in his systems, Perceptor made his move. He gripped Vos at the back of his knee, pressing forward until Vos’ knees were under his chin. Perceptor pulled his softening spike free, pleased that the angle of Vos’ hips was high enough to stop his fluids escaping. “Don’t think you’re getting away with this little stunt that easily.” 

Vos twisted, growling irritably, /I’m tired, lets go home./

Perceptor pulled a thick black plug from his subspace, thin at the tip, it tapered down to a bulbous bottom designed to stay inside a mech until it was pulled free. Slowly he inched the toy into Vos, trapping his transfluid inside. Vos growled and wrenched away from Perceptor’s grip, sliding to the floor to pull the toy free. He had no such luck with the older mech grabbed his wrists, “close your panel, Scope, that doesn’t come out until I pull it out. You’re going to clean up and go back to our quarters, then wait. I’ll be back tonight and if you’ve done as I’ve asked, I’ll make sure you get a treat.” 

Vos narrowed his optics and hissed loudly, /I’m full of your fluid and it’s disgusting. It’s dirty and I’ll probably catch a disease!/

“No, you wont,” Perceptor said, “but if you know the punishment for this is to remain dirty, then you’ll think again before self servicing on my desk with my equipment.” 

/You’re terrible at punishments, why don’t you just spank me like a normal mech./

“Because you would enjoy that.” 

Vos couldn’t deny that was likely true. He snapped his panel shut and grabbed a roll of cloth to clean himself up. /I’m going to the wash racks,/ he said once the evidence from his frame was removed, /then later, when you get back, I’m going to destroy you. I’m going to sit on your face and make you clean me with your tongue!/

“That sounds nice,” Perceptor replied, unfazed by the attitude presented to him. He took the roll of cloth from Vos before he could slam it down onto the table and unwound a generous amount to wipe down his frame. “I might even do that if you don’t remove the plug.”

That caught Vos’ attention and curiosity stole the place of his anger. /Really? You’d really lick yourself out of my valve?That’s...filthy./ 

“Maybe, what happens later depends on you. I have work to do and I’m already going to finish late. I want no more distractions from you, no whining pings about how late it is, no hovering in the doorway to see how long I’ll be, no coming anywhere near the lab or my communicator.” 

/Fine,/ Vos frowned, /but if you come back too tired to do anything, then I’m going to fill you full of vibrators and turn them on while you’re working./

Perceptor took the empty threat with a soft smile, “go home and let me work. Please.” 

Vos nodded and after looking over his frame one last time, headed for the door. He paused in the doorway, his voice quiet, as if he was trying not to be a distraction, /thanks, Percy./

Perceptor barely heard it, for a few seconds he thought he’d imagined it, but when he turned to ask Vos what he was thankful for, Vos was already gone, walking awkwardly down the hall as his gait accommodated the big toy inside him. 

Once Vos turned the corner and disappeared from view, Perceptor smiled to himself. From where he stood, Scope was going to be just fine. Once he stopped pretending to be Vos anyway.


End file.
